England's Confession
by LateButLucky
Summary: England can't take it any more. He has to let out his bottled emotions, one way or another. And so he does, by writing them out as a note, exclaiming his genuine love for America.
1. England's Emotions

I met him years ago, a small country. Out of me and France, he chose me to be his brother - me to be his protector. His guardian. And so, I did that. I brought him up, looked after him, taught him right from wrong and made him strong. But I got too attached. Too controlling. So, he revolted. We fought furiously, but in the end, I couldn't win. I could only give in. I learned that he needed to live and grow by himself from now on. I learned that the hard way...

Everyday I think about him, I look at him and I see a hero. _My hero_. And everyday, I sit and wonder, what could've happened if I'd only let him live. They say that if you love something, let it free. And some day, some day, it'll come back to you if it truly loves you. Ever since that day, I've been praying. Praying that he'll come back. Praying that he'll confess his love for me. If only dreams could come true...

I think, one day in the future, my hope will turn into reality. He'll walk over to me, hold me close, force me to look up into his deep, lustful eyes - and kiss me. That's what I ponder, every time he walks into the bar, when we glance looks at each other, and look away. But only so far he's walked up to me, talked to me. But that's not enough...

Every time I see him with Matthew, another one I helped raise, I feel sick and jealous and my stomach turns. I raise a brow, and let it slide. And I'll continue to do so, until that day, that I hope and pray for.

I love you, Alfred. I just want you to love me too.

_Arthur Kirkland~_


	2. Time To Turn The Tables!

**Okay, here's the thing. Someone, or two of you, suggested that I continue this whole letter thing and bring America's POV into it. :3 I'd decided before I'd posted that it would be a one-off thing, but promised that I'd continue it on your behalf… That was a whole while back from now, and I apologise for that. XD But, despite this, here you have it - America's feelings wrapped up in one letter. Bit of a rant, too, just to let you know. :) I struggled writing this. It seemed a lot harder than England's, so don't be too brutal! Enjoy. ^ 7 ^**

**P.S: Sorry it's a little short. . Didn't want to make it too long in case it got a bit like "America, we get it already!" xD But yup, here you have it.**

**I do not own Hetalia.**

England. Iggy. Britain. That angry Brit. He's naggy, cold, correcting and magical (if you count magical as having your head in the sky and believing in fairies and unicorns). Nah. Iggy's cool. We have a sibling relationship, I guess you could say. The dude loves to be bigger, stronger and act all mean to you. You'll argue and fight each other and sometimes even lie through your teeth. Well, that's on his half. I'm just the younger brother, taking all the anger, the correction and the lies. All the lies…

You never want to be lied to, bro. Trust me on this one. I should _know_, considering I've been lied to for a good part of my life. By someone I loved. By him.

He lied to me, misconstrued by what he said and did; how he acted, so kind and caring. That was before. Now's now. I'll never forget our biggest toss up, when I beat him back so that he had tears streaming from those jewels for eyes. Those glimmering emeralds for eyes. I'll never, ever forger it. Not because I don't want to, or I find it funny and as something that was good. Being free is good, but when you miss someone so bad, you can't forget. You can't forget what happened, what they did to you, what caused this. So many factors bring it back, man. It's so, so bad.

It's not like I don't miss him – like I don't care. I do. I fucking do. I pour my heart out to that son of a bitch, man! He's my everything. Ha… _Was_ my everything. If I could have you back, Arthur, I would. But we know it's not as easy as that. Sure, I miss your funny sense of humour when you're absolutely drunk, your cute little smile when engrossed into a book, and the way you attached yourself to me. I do. But I'd only live in fear – in fear of having a similar argument occur again and ruin our relationship once again…

I love you with all my heart, Iggy. But not now. Maybe… Just maybe. But definitely **not now.**

I'm not ready,

_Alfred F. Jones._


End file.
